A Light in the Dark
by Simoun Sibylla
Summary: While Signum and the other knights struggle with the loss of Reinforce, lost memories of their dark past return. But was everything they did in the past so evil?  Set near the end of A's. Contains angst and yuri - Signum x Shamal.


**A Light in the Dark**

It was dark, and Signum could not see.

"Welcome back, General," said a low, deliberate voice, soft and thick as velvet.

The words sent a thrill of recognition through Signum. She could feel the barely restrained power throbbing in that voice, the voice of her true master, the one who chose the mortal she served in each life, each iteration of her program. "Book of Darkness," she whispered.

"We are one again," acknowledged the Book.

"Was I killed?" wondered Signum. If she was here, then that could only mean that her physical form had expired. Her program, deep inside the Book of Darkness, would soon reset itself.

"Yes. You fell in battle, defending your master," said the voice in the darkness.

"I see. Where are the other knights now?"

"Here. Resting in peace."

Signum let out a curse. "So we failed." She had gravely underestimated their enemy, it seemed. "And our master?"

"Dead."

"Then I failed doubly."

There was a pause. "Yes."

"We did not fill all your pages."

"No. Now I will shut down all programs and await a new master."

"So this is how it ends," said Signum. She knew that she must have gone through this process a thousand times before, but she could not remember it in any detail. Those memories were among those lost upon the rebooting of her program. Already she had forgotten the name of her now deceased master and the world they had failed to conquer. She felt a strange chill take over her body as her minimal black armor slowly dissolved into nothingness. She shivered and closed her eyes.

"You are always the last to return to me," said the Book. "But I wait for you, each time, my General of the Raging Flame. And I will awaken you first, as I do each time."

Signum wanted to ask the Book one more thing, but before she could form the words, she found she had no physical body left with which to speak. She was fading away, losing herself.

All she had left was darkness.

And as she dissolved into the eternal night, she realized that this darkness was all she had ever really had, all she had ever yearned for, and she was glad to be a part of it again.

"Sleep well, Knight of the Sword," said the Book. Then the darkness closed in upon itself, and everything vanished.

xxxxxxx

Signum awoke with a start. Her hands twitched reflexively for her sword but grabbed only the blanket covering her. She flung the covers to the floor before she realized where she was: lying on the couch in Master Hayate's living room.

The room was dark and quiet, save for the violent beating of her heart. She reached for the necklace around her neck and closed her hand around the sword-shaped pendant. Its pointy tips poked into her palm, reassuring her that she was in fact part of the physical world and not within the ancient Belkan device once known as the Book of Darkness.

The dream had been so vivid—too vivid. It could only be a memory of one of her past incarnations. But Signum did not know of which lifetime she dreamed. Perhaps many lifetimes had ended in failure—the death of her master, the death of all the knights, and only the Book of Darkness left to bring them to the next world where they could begin again.

But now the Book was gone. Or rather, the program that had been the Book's soul for centuries had been deleted. Reinforce, the wild wind summoned and tamed by Master Hayate, had departed from this world. For the first time in history, Reinforce had left her master and her knights behind.

Signum let go of her pendant and reached down to pick up the blanket she had flung to the floor. Then she climbed to her feet and walked slowly across the living room to the glass sliding door leading to the back garden. Carefully, she unlocked the door and slid it open as quietly as possible, letting in a rush of cold night air. The sky outside was overcast, but the bright lights of the city created a warm, orange glow in the low-hanging clouds.

Pushing the door all the way open, she stuck her head outside. She took a deep breath and let the icy night air warm in her lungs before letting it back out. "Book of Darkness," she breathed, her breath clouding in the cold air. "Book of the Night Sky." She inhaled again, slowly, and let it out once more, with the name slipping from her lips: "Reinforce."

Signum knew that Reinforce could have stayed with the knights at Master Hayate's side, but the former Book of Darkness had chosen to leave them.

"This is the only way I can protect all of you," Reinforce had confided to Signum one evening, before she had departed. "The corrupted defense system is already trying to rebuild itself. Soon I will be too weak to resist it. I must go. To protect my master, I must go."

And so Reinforce had gone. And with her passing, the infinite loop of destruction executed by the Book's corrupted programming had been finally cut off. The Book's master had not died and the world had not ended—only Reinforce's life had, on that cold winter day.

"Reinforce is gone," she whispered into the night, "and still, we remain."

"_Ja_," chimed her sword Laevantein in his pendant form about her neck.

_I am sorry,_ _General, _said Reinforce's voice in her head, an echo of the night when she had told Signum she was leaving. _But I leave my master in your care._

Signum took one more deep breath of cold winter air, and then she stepped back, sliding the glass door shut in front of her. She locked it again, tugged the curtains closed after it, and angrily wiped away a threatening tear from her eye before even Laevantein could see it.

xxxxxxx

"Good morning, Vita, Signum!"

"Mornin', Shamal. Where's the grub?"

"Coming right up, Vita. Do you want milk or juice?"

"Yeah, milk, whatever," mumbled Vita as she groggily took a seat at the dining room table.

"And you, Signum?" asked Shamal from the kitchen.

Signum pulled out a chair at the table and sat down with a grunt.

"What, no proper 'good morning' from you?" chided Shamal playfully as she came out of the kitchen to set a plate of fresh toast and a glass of milk on the table.

Signum looked up at Shamal. Her sparkling eyes and bright smile seemed full of all the joy and energy Signum lacked this morning.

"Morning," Signum managed.

"Someone sure got up on the wrong side of the bed," teased Shamal. "How about some coffee?" she called, already flouncing back into the kitchen.

"Ah. Please."

"Where's Hayate?" wondered Vita, helping herself to some toast while Shamal wasn't looking.

"Still sleeping," answered Shamal cheerfully from the kitchen.

Vita took a bite of toast. "Signum looks like she's the one who could use more sleep. Go back to bed. You look like a piece of—"

"At least you're cheery this morning, Vita!" interrupted Shamal as she returned to the table with a mug full of hot coffee for Signum.

Signum gratefully accepted the cup. She took a sip of the black coffee—it scalded her tongue, but she didn't care.

_I heard you come to our room really late last night, _said Shamal telepathically, her face set in a pleasant smile. _Everything alright?_

_Yes, _replied Signum. She didn't want to try to explain herself right now.

Shamal touched Signum's upper arm. _Let's talk later,_ she suggested, squeezing her shoulder lightly before hurrying back to the kitchen. "I'll make you an omelet, Signum," she said cheerily. "They say protein's just the thing to start the day off right!"

"Ooh! I want an omelet, too!" cried Vita.

"Yes, yes, two omelets coming right up!"

"Just don't burn mine!"

Signum took another sip of coffee. Suddenly she felt something bump against her shins. She looked under the table and saw a blue-furred wolf lounging at her feet. "Oh. Zafira."

_Good morning, Signum, _said the wolf, raising his head. _Did you not sleep well last night?_

_Does it matter? _she responded curtly. She spotted the morning newspaper on the table and grabbed it to skim the headlines and hide her face.

_You should talk to Shamal about it, _advised Zafira.

Signum carefully picked up her coffee again and took another sip. _I'm fine. There's nothing to talk about, with you or with Shamal._

Zafira lowered his head back to his paws.

"Good morning, everyone! I'm sorry I overslept!"

Signum looked up and saw Hayate roll into the room in her wheelchair. "Good morning, Master Hayate," she said automatically, lowering her paper and rising to her feet so she could help wheel Hayate to the table.

"Ah, thanks, Signum!" Hayate smiled up at her. "Shamal, what's on the menu?"

"Omelets," said Vita, chomping on another piece of dry toast. "Doesn't smell like she's burned them yet."

"Last time was an accident!" cried Shamal defensively from the kitchen.

"Last time they were so burnt, even Zafira couldn't eat them," recalled Signum as she returned to her seat and picked up the paper again.

"Well, if you're so critical, you can try cooking breakfast tomorrow yourself, Signum!" suggested Shamal.

"Whaaaat! Signum's cooking sucks!" crowed Vita. "She'd have us eating cold soup straight out of the can again if we put her in charge!"

"The risk of food poisoning with canned soup is lower than with Shamal's cooking," Signum picked up her newspaper again. "Besides, good presentation and flavor are unnecessary luxuries for a knight."

Shamal strode out of the kitchen with a frying pan in hand and unceremoniously dumped an omelet on Signum's plate. "There! See how you like that presentation!" She scowled. Signum blinked at the misshapen omelet that flopped onto her plate, then looked up in time to see Shamal stomp back into the kitchen.

Vita laughed.

"Shamal's doing her best, everyone," Hayate said with a grin. "Right? Right?"

Zafira raised his head, nose twitching. _However, something smells a bit charred._

"Ah! It's because you lot are distracting me!" cried Shamal. There was the sound of clanging metal pans and half-suppressed cursing.

Hayate's eyes widened, but then she laughed, too. "For a Saturday morning, it sure is lively in here!" she giggled. "But with you all, every single day is too much fun!"

"That's all thanks to you, Master Hayate," said Signum over her newspaper.

Hayate beamed at her. "No, no! It's all of us together!"

Signum felt a pang in her chest, thinking of the one person they were missing and how close they had all come to never being together again at all.

"No matter what happens to us, we are always one big family!" continued Hayate. "No matter what, you're all still my precious—" Suddenly her voice quavered. A hand flew to her lips, as if she had said too much, and her eyes gleamed with sudden tears.

"Hayate!" Vita scrambled over to Hayate's side and flung her arms around her master. Hayate was crying.

Shamal came out of the kitchen, glanced at Signum, and then hurried over to Hayate and Vita. She bent down and put her arms around the girls. Zafira poked his head out from under the table to rest it on his master's lap, and Signum rose to her feet to take one of Hayate's hands in her own. "Master Hayate…"

"Ahaha, I'm sorry, everyone," said Hayate, bravely laughing as she tried to scrub away her tears with one hand. She tried to give each of the knights a reassuring smile in turn. "I just dreamed weird things last night and feel a bit—"

"It's alright," whispered Shamal, stroking Hayate's hair. "We understand. It's okay."

"We're always here for you, Hayate!" said Vita, clinging tightly to Hayate's arm. "No matter what!"

"Ah," agreed Signum.

"We're family, after all!" added Shamal.

Hayate sniffled. "Thank you, everyone."

Signum simply squeezed Hayate's hand gently, finding no words of comfort she could offer her master. Hayate's hand returned the squeeze, and Signum felt her heart swell with an almost painful affection for this girl. No matter how much Hayate suffered, she always had warmth to spare for others. No one cared for the knights as much as their small, kind master.

Holding Hayate's warm hand, Signum felt a strange tightness in her throat. How much Reinforce must have loved Hayate, to sacrifice herself so that the knights at least could stay with her. And how much Reinforce must have loved her knights, to leave them with the greatest master they had ever encountered in all of space and time.

Hayate wiped her eyes, then gently pushed everyone away from her. "Now then, all the food's getting cold!" she said, smiling despite the tearstains on her face. "Let's eat!"

xxxxxxx

"Signum?"

Signum looked up from where she was sitting on the couch. "Shamal." The living room was dark, save for the pale glow of the moonlight coming in through the window; she had been contemplating the darkness and hadn't expected anyone else to come here at this time of night. But there stood Shamal in a light green silk robe over her pajamas, with matching fuzzy slippers on her feet.

"What are you doing up?" wondered Shamal. She reached for the light switch.

"Leave the light off. Please."

Shamal padded across the floor to join Signum on the couch. "It's a lovely night out," she commented, looking out the wide windows to the garden.

"Ah."

"Don't you want to come to bed? You do have a bed in our room upstairs, in case you forgot."

Signum looked at Shamal. "I don't mind sleeping out here. I didn't want to wake you."

Shamal settled back on the couch. Her face was dark, silhouetted by the moonlight. "How are you?" she asked softly. "What happened last night?"

"Nothing."

Shamal leaned forward and peered at Signum's face. "Lies. You're tense." She poked Signum's forehead with a delicate finger. "I can see wrinkles forming here already!"

Signum frowned, then realized that was only creating more wrinkles. She turned her face away, avoiding Shamal's intent gaze.

"I know! How about I give you a massage? It'll help you relax, at least."

Signum said nothing, but Shamal shifted on the couch so that she could place her hands on Signum's shoulders. Out of habit, Signum turned her back to Shamal as her small but strong hands began to massage Signum's shoulders. Shamal had often done this for her after Signum had been out all night collecting linker cores to fill the pages of the Book of Darkness with magic. At least that was one task the knights would never have to complete again.

"Goodness, you just got even tenser, Signum," scolded Shamal. "What are you thinking about now?"

"Just how it's been a while since I've sat here like this with you," said Signum, glad not to have look Shamal in the eye.

"And that makes you tense up?"

Signum sighed. "No."

Shamal's hands lifted from Signum's shoulders. "Want me to leave you alone?" she asked, her tone less confident now.

"No."

Shamal said nothing, but began the massage again. Signum stared silently into the darkness.

"A lot of things have changed for us," Shamal said after a while. "It's normal to feel stressed during times of transition. It hasn't exactly been easy for us." Shamal's fingers worked their way to the base of Signum's neck and then back along her shoulders, methodically kneading out all the knots of tension. "I know you haven't been sleeping well. It's no use trying to hide it from me. But I'm telling you, it's normal."

"Mm." Signum closed her eyes. The massage and the tone of Shamal's gentle voice were indeed relaxing, especially now as Shamal began to knead her way down Signum's upper arms.

"Zafira and I think that when Reinforce left, she took a piece of our coding with her. Somehow bits of data that were inaccessible to us are suddenly out in the open, bringing back memories and causing errors. It's happening to all of us. Zafira's been dreaming crazy things, he says."

"What about you?" asked Signum.

"I'm remembering more. Remembering things I know must have been erased. Good things and bad things." Her hands moved down to Signum's shoulder blades and smoothed out the tense muscles of her back.

"There are some things I would rather have left forgotten," sighed Signum.

"But there are some things that are important for us to remember." Shamal's hands slowed, then stopped massaging altogether. "Not everything we did was bad," she added softly.

"True."

Suddenly she felt Shamal's arms twine around her waist and Shamal's face press against her back. Signum's eyes flew open at the unexpected intimacy, but then she smiled to herself and closed her eyes again. Shamal's presence was warm and comforting. Signum wanted to lean back against her, to let Shamal held her close, to forget about the past and simply enjoy the present, with skin against skin, lips against hers, soft blonde hair against her face—

"What kept you up last night?" asked Shamal, cutting off Signum's train of thought.

"A recollection of the past," answered Signum vaguely, still trying to push aside the memories of a less distant past, memories of Shamal in her arms, in her bed.

"Was it a bad recollection?" wondered Shamal.

Signum hesitated. "I don't know."

"Hmm." Shamal cuddled closer against Signum's back.

Signum did not move.

"Don't sleep on the couch tonight, Signum," whispered Shamal after a little while. "Please."

Signum touched Shamal's hand lightly. "I'll be up shortly."

"Promise?"

"You dare doubt your commander's word?"

"Only when my commander makes a habit of not telling me the whole truth."

"I promise, then."

"Good." Shamal let go of her and slipped away, leaving Signum to contemplate the moonlit sky in peace for a little while longer.

xxxxxxx

"Signum!"

She turned and saw a blonde-haired figure drop through the smoky haze of the battlefield to alight on the ground beside her.

"Shamal." Signum frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you!" Shamal said, purple eyes flaring as she moved towards Signum. Her long black dress flapped in the parched wind.

"I told you to remain with our master!"

"Zafira's with him."

"You disobeyed my order!"

Shamal drew herself up defiantly, her long black dress billowing about her. "And you recklessly threw yourself into battle and nearly got yourself killed!" She touched Signum's left arm. "Just look at you."

Signum looked down and saw blood pouring from a deep gash on her upper arm. It streamed over her pale skin to her hand and dripped from her fingertips down to the ground. And now she could feel more blood trickling down the outside of her left leg, too. She wasn't sure how much of the blood was her own; she hadn't noticed it until now. The lingering adrenaline of battle kept the pain at bay.

But Shamal was already invoking a targeted healing spell. "Why must you always go to such extremes," she scolded. "You didn't have to go charging in to take out the entire city by yourself. You knew they had strong defenses."

"I am a knight of Belka," responded Signum as Shamal's healing magic tingled over her upper arm.

"Yes, we all are," sighed Shamal. "Next time, please take Vita with you."

Signum didn't dignify that suggestion with a response.

"It's worse than I thought," murmured Shamal as she continued with her ministrations. She reached out to touch Signum's left side, just below the ribs. When she pulled her hand back, it was stained red. The black fabric of Signum's short dress concealed the blood, but now that Shamal had drawn her attention to it, Signum could feel a disconcertingly warm, sticky dampness against her skin. She had taken more damage than she had realized; it filled her with a perverse delight. The people she had just massacred were not as helpless as she had assumed—but they were still dead at her hand. She was victorious over a slightly more worthy enemy than usual.

"Stand still," said Shamal. A pale green light emanated from her hands and flowed out to Signum, bathing her whole body in an ethereal aura. She felt a twinge in her side as the wound beneath her ribs began to stitch itself together.

Abruptly one of Signum's knees gave out, but Shamal caught her and guided her gently downward until they were both seated on the ground. "What the hell?" muttered Signum.

"You've lost a lot of blood. And there's poison." Shamal closed her eyes to concentrate on her spell. "Give me just another minute." Signum watched her face through the green light of the magic and was struck by how serene the healer looked even as ash and dirt blew through the air from the smoldering ruins of the destroyed city.

Suddenly a sharp pain pierced Signum's head. "Just what are you doing to me?" she winced.

But Shamal seemed to have felt it, too. She knelt beside Signum, wide-eyed and pale, and the magic in her hands faded. "Something—just snapped—" she whispered, as though she were having trouble breathing.

A terrible realization struck Signum. "Vita. Zafira."

Shamal gaped at her, horrified. "No. No!"

"Our link with them has been severed."

"Impossible—"

"We must go back to our master," declared Signum, looking up at the smoke-stained sky. If the constant link between the four Knights had been cut, it could only mean that some great harm had befallen them. And if Vita and Zafira were disabled, then their master was now completely unguarded, if not already dead.

Signum despised her master, but she had sworn to protect him and the Book he carried. It was her duty.

Signum laboriously pulled herself to her feet. Shamal quickly stood up beside her, putting a shoulder under her arm to support her. "Can you even fly?" asked Shamal.

Signum gritted her teeth as she attempted to gather her aerial magic. "No," she admitted finally, with great frustration.

"That's why I tell you not to be so reckless," said Shamal softly. "Let's teleport," she suggested, tightening her hold on Signum, but before she could even start the necessary spell, the ground beneath their feet quaked violently. Shamal shrieked, instinctively latched onto Signum, and launched herself into the air, carrying Signum up with her. Beneath them, great fissures opened up in the ground, and the spot where they had been standing crumbled before their eyes.

"What's that?" cried Shamal suddenly. Clinging to Shamal, Signum looked up. Her eyes widened. On the horizon, a massive black globe loomed, crackling with magical energy. It was expanding at an unbelievably fast rate.

"Higher!" cried Signum, and Shamal obediently tightened her grip around Signum's waist and flew upwards as the black barrier raced towards them.

"It's too late!" cried Shamal. "Klarer Wind! Shield!"

"Shamal! Wait!"

"Aaaaugh! Signum!"

And then the explosion of darkness swallowed them whole.

xxxxxxx

Signum's eyes flew open. "Shamal!" she gasped.

"Yes? I'm here."

Light flooded the room, and Signum found herself in her own bed. She looked over to Shamal's side of the room to see Shamal sitting up in bed, one hand on the lamp she had just turned on and a worried look on her face.

There was no sign of any kind of battlefield or explosion.

"You had another nightmare, didn't you." It wasn't a question.

"Just another…recollection," murmured Signum, her hand reaching for Laevantein again. The tiny sword hung, as always, reassuringly around her neck.

Shamal climbed out of bed and padded across the floor to Signum's bedside. "Scoot over a bit."

Signum did as she was told, and Shamal climbed into bed beside her. A moment later, she was lying in bed with Shamal's face hovering over hers.

"Now tell me, what did you see this time?"

Signum stared at her for a moment, wondering why this discussion was necessary, but finally she relented. "I was in battle," she began, trying to remember the dream. "I don't know who I was fighting, but you came and—" She paused, realizing what must have happened. "You stopped me from completely destroying myself in my bloodlust."

Shamal nodded silently, but her eyes were sad.

"But I was too weak to fly, so you simply picked me up and carried me off into the sky."

"I did?"

"Ah, you did."

"That must've been quite a sight," mused Shamal, shifting so that she could lie with her head pillowed on one arm. Something about the way Shamal looked at her—with a tiny smile and a flicker of emotion in her eyes—nudged something in the back of Signum's mind, but whatever it was, it remained just beyond her reach, locked far in the past.

"What happened then?" asked Shamal. "After I flew away with you?"

Signum thought of the terrible ending of that particular dream. "I don't recall."

"So you woke up screaming my name because you dreamed we were flying?" Shamal narrowed her eyes slightly. Her doubt hung in the air, but Signum chose not to acknowledge it. There was no need for Shamal to learn of a death she didn't remember herself.

"Ah," she said, hoping to let the subject drop.

"I've seen you in a dream or two, too, you know."

Signum rolled over a bit until she was lying on her side, face to face with Shamal. "What were they about?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't know, just things like this," said Shamal, reaching up to lightly touch Signum's cheek with her hand. "Or this." She leaned in to lightly kiss Signum's lips.

"Shamal, what are you doing?"

"Showing you what I dreamed!"

"I think that was a dream about this present life, not the past," she said. Her face felt rather hot all of a sudden.

Shamal gave her a smile. "Past or present, in that respect, they're the same."

"What?"

Shamal's hand slid around to the nape of Signum's neck, tickling her slightly. "My past self loved you back then, too, it seems."

Signum found herself speechless. So that was what Shamal meant when she had mentioned that not all the recovered memories were bad.

But she couldn't remember feeling anything special for anyone in the past. She only remembered fighting, and frustration, and anger. So much anger.

"You don't remember, do you," sighed Shamal, sadness tingeing her eyes again.

"I don't. I'm sorry."

Shamal pulled back her hand. "No, I should apologize—"

But Signum caught Shamal's hand. "But I remember you," she began, mind racing through the old memories, through the recent dreams. "I remember your hands touching me as you cast your healing spells. I remember how firmly you held me up when I could no longer stand on my own." She released Shamal's hand as an unexpected memory came to her. "I remember the light of red suns glinting off Klarer Wind as you boldly strode in battle alone, when the rest of us were already lying bleeding in the dirt." One after another, forgotten memories came to light with surprising clarity. "I remember you sinking an entire navy with a wave of your hand, I remember you proudly summoning Reinforce when the Book was full, I remember—" Realizing she was talking to much, she abruptly fell silent. But then she felt compelled to add, "Shamal, you have always been a strong knight we can all rely on."

Shamal gazed at her for a moment, then shut her eyes. "Of course, the Knight of the Sword would only remember our battles," she sighed.

"Tell me. What else am I forgetting?"

Shamal moved closer and took Signum's hands in her own. "It doesn't matter. No matter when it was, I loved you for being the knight that you were."

"And now? Am I not a knight?"

"Don't be silly! Of course, I—"

"You what?"

"I—"

Signum smiled and pulled her closer. "I love you, Shamal."

xxxxxxx

Signum stood at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a vast plain. The sun was rising on the distant horizon, its first light glinting off the rivers and lakes in the flatlands below and painting the sky all shades of orange and pink.

To her right stood a tall, silver-haired woman, with red lines marking her face. She was clad in black, like Signum and the other knights, but in her left hand, she held an ancient tome.

Signum turned then to her left. Shamal stood next to her, followed by Zafira and then Vita. Shamal tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then turned and caught Signum's gaze.

"Are you ready?" asked Signum, not taking her eyes of Shamal even though she addressed the group.

"This world is already ours," said the silver-haired spirit of the Book of Darkness.

"But the true battle begins now," said Zafira.

"Ah, indeed," agreed Signum.

"It better be worth it!" muttered Vita.

"Our future awaits," said Shamal.

Signum allowed herself a slight smile, then turned her gaze back to the sunrise. "Then what are we waiting for?" She summoned her sword to her hand. She could feel Laevantein's hunger for battle, and she couldn't deny her own eagerness to charge forward with her comrades. "Let's go!"

xxxxxxx

Signum woke to the sound of someone clanking about in the kitchen downstairs—Hayate making breakfast, presumably. She opened her eyes and blinked in the sunlight pouring in through the window.

She sat up and started to throw back the covers, but then she realized she wasn't alone in her bed. Buried beneath the comforter lay Shamal, naked and sound asleep, with her wavy blonde hair fanned out over the pillow.

Smiling to herself, Signum leaned down to kiss Shamal's head. Confident that no one would hear her, she whispered, "Past or present, I like you like this best, Shamal."


End file.
